My Other Brother
by Chereche
Summary: Kurt abandons his new team at Sectionals in order to be at the side of a childhood friend.


Kurt nodded absentmindedly in agreement to whatever Wes was saying. They had arrived a bit earlier than scheduled at the venue for Sectionals due to a surprising lack of traffic. Thankfully they had been allowed into the performance earlier, but not to utilise the stage (not that Kurt had agreed with that being a good idea in the first place). It was a new venue for them, but not him. He already knew the best way to angle himself, where the judges would more than likely be seated, but he restrained from offering any advice. He had long since realised that, given how the Warblers were arranged, any opinion he offered would not be considered, far less accepted.

He now only had mild bitterness for that fact.

Except that it was not the true reason he was only now mildly listening to the speculations they were bandying about. This was the problematic venue for New Directions; he had not even noticed that fact at first, but now that he did... All he could see as he looked about was the too small aisles and the too small spaces between seat rows, far less for the absolutely ridiculous amounts of too small steps that would make navigation difficult for someone who had anything but perfect health. And yes, there was a slanting, smooth canvas down the centre, but it was too slanted, too smooth, and would make it quite easy for someone to lose their grasp and falter, only to be stopped by the equipment at the base of the stage.

He sighed, wondering if Mr Shue had remembered to consider this fact. Last year had been horrible. He had ended up sitting outside of the backstage area with Artie for the majority of the day. They had had a blast back there, although Kurt had (in an act that had gotten him detention for rudeness) chewed out Mr Shuester the next day for not thinking ahead to ensure that the venue was wheelchair friendly. Yes, Artie was used to it, but he should not have to deal with it.

It was embarrassing to him in a way that riled Kurt. They had actually had to delay their performance while the other guys (ignoring Kurt's words) did the absurd act of carrying Artie, chair and all to the stage area. But then again, none of them listened to him; at least he had been able to chuckle ruefully when Artie had shot him a look backwards as he rolled his eyes to the heavens, as annoyed (but somewhat amused) by it as he had been.

They had not breathed a word as to the easiest way to move him around.

Nevertheless, the fact that they were back here again meant that, once again, Mr Shue had forgotten to lodge a report with the competition body to tell them that they had a team member with special needs and could they please just select a venue that was a bit more convenient? Sheesh. And they claimed to be striving for all inclusiveness?

Kurt's preoccupation lasted throughout the arrival of the other teams, and then seating himself. Perhaps more to do with luck than anything else, he ended up on an end seat that afforded him a perfect view of the entrance. It was why he saw his former teammates' entrance and the telltale tension that, he attributed mostly to Mr Shue's unpreparedness, at least one diva off the day before, and, given the location, the worry (and in Rachel's case annoyance) as to what to do with Artie. And it wasn't as if he was there and available to babysit him this time.

Kurt closed his eyes briefly, turning to answer his seatmate's question, even as he hoped that the lack of Ms Pillsbury meant that she was with him. He comforted himself with that fact until he felt the telltale buzz of a message arriving. Glancing around to ensure that the council really was suitably distracted, he checked the message, his heart dropping when he saw who it was from: Artie.

"Guess who won't be seeing you perform :("

Kurt didn't even bother to reply. He knew Artie too well by now that this was a pale attempt at humour meant to disguise...well a lot. And he was not going to stay there and do nothing about it.

"Call my phone when it's time to head backstage," Kurt told the redhead besides him -Andrew?- abruptly before rising, not giving him, or anyone else, an opportunity to question him.

Artie above all else, he thought, even as he auto dialled his number.

"Where did they park you this time?" he asked without preamble the second he answered.

Artie didn't even miss a beat as he replied, "Near the concessionary stand."

"Coming."

Kurt's temper rose at the thought of Artie, seated near buttery, overpriced popcorn, or worse yet a garbage pile. He knew why he was there; there would have been a crowd everywhere else, and, not wanting to be bothersome, he would have offered to just remain there, out of the way and invisible until they needed him. Kurt wanted to hurt someone. He looked fairly woe begotten, Kurt noted as he approached him, already unbuttoning his blazer so that, the minute he reached him, he could easily crouch to meet his gaze.

"No one stayed with you?" he asked.

Artie smiled minutely at him, reaching out to affectionately cuff his face. "It wasn't worth the hassle," he shrugged. "You're the best conversationalist out of everyone."

"This isn't fair," Kurt groused, balancing himself so that he could run hands along Artie's clothing, straightening and fixing it (mainly he was just trying to keep his hands busy). "Mr Shue should have at least -"

"He's dealing with meltdown number whatever," Artie told him with an eye roll.

"What caused it this time?"

"Well, after you left, Santana argued that since he was going to give you a solo, it wasn't fair to just default it back to Rachel. He, surprisingly, agreed. There's not a single Rachel solo or Finchel duet. Rachel protested yesterday by not singing, and then this morning started throwing a rather impressive tantrum. Now Santana wants to cut her, Quinn thinks her voice is horrible and Sam is probably reconsidering joining us after all."

"And that's what you missed on Glee," Kurt quipped dryly, actually relieved that for once, he could just listen to the situation unfold vicariously. "They'll pull it together hopefully."

"No drama on your end?"

"None," Kurt replied with a laugh, rocking back now so that he could look more fully at him. "It's bordering on boring actually. The council chooses the song, decides how we're going to complement Blaine and that's it."

"O-kay."

"It's complicated," he said with a sigh. "The Warblers are basically Blaine and the Pips. I'm still deciding how I feel about this, but, it's the only club that Dalton has that I can sing in. Unless I join drama and convince them to do a musical..."

Artie chuckled. "Seems like we both have our issues."

"Yeah."

"How are you on the Brittany front, by the way," he asked slyly.

"We are getting there," he laughed. "We nearly...you know...last week."

"Artie!" Kurt gasped, scandalised. "Do we need to have the talk?"

"Again?" he retorted, eyes comically widened.

For a moment, Kurt was pulled back to that moment, years before when, on the onset of puberty, Artie's budding concern about his...performance ability was positively answered. For a moment Kurt wondered at the irony of him possibly being the first of the two of them to lose his virginity, but he felt no jealously for him, only...pride? Artie could use the bolstering of his confidence anyway.

They chatted for a few minutes more before the lights starting blipping, an indication that the show was about to begin.

"This isn't fair," Kurt sighed. "This always happens to you."

"It's the Lima life," Artie said with a dismissive shrug. "I'm used to it by now."

"You shouldn't have to be," Kurt returned, old anger resurfacing. "Do you want me to...?"

"Nah, Kurt, Wheels is cool here," he reassured him. "I know you can carry me - you're stronger than you look, but then you'll have to find me a seat, put me there, get me back out because you know I'm not going to let anyone else touch me that way."

"Except Brittany," Kurt told him with an eye waggle that earned him a tap.

"Never do that again," he laughed, "you looked ridiculous."

"I would have you know that I am always immaculate."

"Says the one who can drool a bucket."

"Only after dental surgery! Why are you being mean to me?"

"Because I can," he answered and they both descended into chuckles.

"We're performing near the end," he told him after a moment, "the Warblers and I, I mean. You're next to laugh. There's just enough time for me to get you backstage if you want."

"You have your own team to deal with now Kurt."

"You are my priority," Kurt told him sincerely, leaning up so that he could butt their foreheads together, "you know that."

"I do," he whispered, in an equally soft yet sincere tone. "I just don't want to create any chaos with you and your new team. A couple of them have been popping in and out looking at us for a while now."

"Let them," he shrugged, rocking back. "I told them to call when it was near the performance time. They don't even really need me...but that's a talk for another day. When the first few teams have performed, I'll wheel you into the back of the auditorium. There's a small landing there that should be fine. You'll watch me sway in the back, then I'll get you, move you to the backstage, get you onstage *my* way this time, and afterwards we'll come back here, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan," Artie agreed momentarily, his eyes soft, "Sounds like a plan."

"You've known that guy Artie long?" Blaine asked, later that afternoon.

They were back at Dalton, and while Kurt would have preferred to be alone so that he could deal with the surprising bought of homesickness that had overtaken him the moment his friends had stepped on stage, he also knew that companionship was perhaps the better way to deal with it.

"That Artie guy," he said, reusing Blaine's words as he cleared off the spot beside him for him to sit, "has been my best friend since kindergarten."

"Oh?" Blaine asked, intrigued.

"Yeah. The first day of school, I decided that I just had to climb up on the monkey bars. I got scared and froze. Artie climbed up and stayed with me until a teacher noticed that something was wrong. We've been best friends since."

"That's a nice story, Kurt," Blaine told him, although he picked up on the odd quality to his tone.

Kurt reassessed his words, and then chuckled ruefully. "Sorry," he said, before Blaine could speak, "I forgot you don't know. Um...when I - when we were eight, Artie, Aunty Judy - his mom - my mom and me went to the movies together. Coming back there was a drunk driver. He slammed into us. I lost my mom and Artie lost the use of his legs."

Time, and the routine of telling this story ever so often had taken all nuances of pain out of his words. Nevertheless, he could see the effect his few sentences had had on him. Blaine's eyes were slightly wide with a bit of horror also apparent on his expression.

"Oh, Kurt - I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Kurt said, reassuringly, reaching out to pat his thigh, "I'm used to it now. Artie and I - he's the closest thing I've had to a brother for a long time, and that's including Finn," he added with a laugh. "We went to different schools for a while. Our elementary school hadn't been equipped for wheelchairs, and to be fair, neither of us could really deal with being around each other for a while. It got better by the time we got to middle school. We reunited and well, it's been smooth swimming since then."

"I could tell you were close," Blaine admitted. "You seemed very protective of him."

"I am," he responded firmly. "Oh, is this what it is about? Wes sent you to chide me for staying away from you guys?"

"He'd be cruel to do so," Blaine told him. "It was obvious to everyone that you were helping him. I didn't realise how strong you were. You carried him up those steps so effortlessly."

"Practice," Kurt replied, shrugging. "My dad isn't always around when he comes over, so I can carry him about reasonably well. He really doesn't weigh that much - he's just arms and legs. ... I miss him."

"I'm sorry," Blaine told him, reaching down to wrap his fingers around the hand Kurt still had on his thigh. "It still boggles me how much you've given up to come here."

"Safety first," Kurt sighed. "The guys can ensure Artie is safe. The same can't happen for me. But it's okay. Two years...just these two years and we'll be in New York together. We'll get through this."

"Yeah," Blaine answered, "I hear the determination in your voice. You definitely will."


End file.
